My Father's Temper

Over the weekend I dealt with some sibling rivalry. Most of it stems from the fact that I lived my whole life with our father and they didn't. My brother and sister don't know the half of it. I grew up with extreme amounts of anxiety and stress being around my father. I believe some of my stomach problems today come from that hyper-anxiety I had growing up. My father hated his job for the most part of my youth. He would often come home and find something to get upset about and start ranting about any and everything. I could never calm him down nor could I walk away, for fear that it might get physical. 

One night he came home in a particularly foul mood. It just so happened he decided to go to the bathroom. Our house was older and out in the middle of nowhere, so it had issues. One of the issues was the toilet loved to back-up or get stopped-up. When this happened, it took elbow grease and a good plunger, otherwise it flooded the whole bathroom. Well, that is exactly what happened. My father went to the restroom and the toilet immediately backed-up on him. He started yelling and cursing, he immediately assumed I did something to the toilet. I was ten and knew nothing of communicating with my parents, so I ignored his comments and locked myself in my room. I knew he was fuming but I was going to take a stand and not let him scream at me. He shook my bedroom door violently, I reiterated to him that I was not going to come out until he calms down. All I could hear was his yelling, but I was completely mortified when I saw his fist burst through the lock of my bedroom door... twice. On the second time the door was shattered around the knob and he was racing toward me. 

I was scared. 

I immediately put my arms in front of my face... that was a mistake. He picked me up by my wrist and started punching me all around my mid section. I was screaming and trying to kick back at him but couldn't free myself. I was in full survival mode kicking and biting. At some point my mother got him to drop me and I immediately raced outside. My mom got me in the car and we drove off. I was in pain but I remember not crying, I think I was stunned more than anything. This had happened before, but not to this extreme, my thoughts were would he kill me next time? My father is remembered by extreme moments of passion and fury. He can love you one second, and be verbally abusing you the next. This was the case as we drove. He called our car phone, (the ones that looked like big bricks) and wanted to talk to me. He apologized and was really upset. 

How do you deal with that? 

It happened again, each time ended with him apologizing. He still challenges me today, but he knows I am stronger. If only my siblings knew. Perhaps, I'm upset at my brother for never being there to protect me. I love my father like any son should, but he's left some deep scars. The worst part about it is, I feel him inside me when my temper starts to go, I've been good about controlling it because i know my father's temper is there. 

I promise that the next couple of posts will be more uplifting.